


ignore

by katierosefun



Series: Obitine Week 2020 [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker is a Little Shit, Deleted Scenes, F/M, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, ObiTine Week 2020, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24858811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: …or the time Anakin Skywalker accidentally on purpose locks Obi-Wan and Satine in a room after the events of the Coronet in hopes that they’ll actually talk to each other. (They don’t. But at least they crawled around an air vent together.)[Obitine Week 2020, Day 1: 7 Deadly Sins--an investigation on pride.]
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Series: Obitine Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798525
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





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Obi-Wan was going to have _words_ with Anakin once he found him.

“Anything?” Satine asked from behind Obi-Wan. He was too aware of Satine’s breath against the back of his neck, her warm presence in the otherwise chilled supply room. But despite the actual warmth of her physical presence, Satine’s voice was cool, steady. She didn’t want to be here, and Obi-Wan certainly didn’t want to be, either.

“No,” Obi-Wan said, dropping his hand from his comlink. He had been trying to get a connection in the last five minutes—or what must have been five minutes. It could have been shorter, it could have been longer. There weren’t any clocks in the supply room. (Closet, really.) “There’s no signal here.”

Satine let out a short breath, and again, Obi-Wan tried to ignore the way it brushed against the back of his neck. “Wonderful,” she said. “And I don’t suppose you happen to have your lightsaber, do you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied wearily. Oh, he was most _definitley_ going to have words with Anakin.

They had been walking down one of the levels of the Coronet, just finishing the last of their sweeps for droids when Anakin had off-handedly asked Obi-Wan for his lightsaber. Obi-Wan had been suspicious from the start, but then Anakin had given him a sheepish smile, saying that he had dropped his on one of the upper floors.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin had said hurriedly. “Rex told me that he’s got it. I just need a light. One of the rooms down there has the power out—and we don’t need any more spooked politicians.”

So Obi-Wan had given Anakin his lightsaber, lecture already halfway past his lips when Anakin had snapped his fingers—actually, snapped his fingers, which, looking back now, Obi-Wan figured should have been another red flag. But he had been too tired with the day to look past Anakin’s acting, and when Anakin claimed that they needed to go to the supply closet because “ah, I forgot that some of the parts are up there”, Obi-Wan had reluctantly followed.

And Anakin had talked the whole way up the floor, his words nothing more than a scramble of technical jargon that Obi-Wan didn’t have the capacity to try to decipher. It wasn’t until Anakin took a quick breath to address Satine, who had been just walking out of one of the lifts before Obi-Wan actually focused again.

“Duchess,” Anakin had said brightly. “Perfect.” Obi-Wan figured Anakin’s use of _perfect_ should have been another red flag, but again, he hadn’t paid that part much attention as Anakin had hurriedly explained to Satine that he needed two people to hold open the faulty supply room door.

“Some hijinks in the system,” Anakin had explained. “I can fix it up in just a few minutes, but first I’ve got to take care of something in the lower levels.”

And Satine had agreed to help—of course she agreed to help, and she had taken the other side of the door across from Obi-Wan, their eyes pointedly sliding away from each other as Anakin ducked into the supply closet. Anakin had puttered around there for a few seconds and then, with a loud sigh, he had declared the supply closet a bust, and had asked Obi-Wan and Satine instead to check if maybe they could find the part he needed instead.

So Obi-Wan and Satine had walked inside, and then Anakin had said cheerfully, “See you all in a few minutes!”

And then the door had slid shut in their faces.

At first, Obi-Wan had thought that the door must have just slipped from Anakin’s grip—or that this was just some small joke, but the seconds Obi-Wan had spent tapping on the door turned into minutes, and after an additional three minutes of absolute silence from the other side, Obi-Wan came to the realization that his former apprentice had, in fact, decided to cram Satine and himself in this tiny supply closet for reasons Obi-Wan didn’t particularly want to think about.

Right now, Obi-Wan could only think about what he would say to Anakin once they got out of this wretched little space.

“I don’t suppose you could use the Force to unlock the door?” Satine suggested at last.

“I was just about to,” Obi-Wan replied. And he did—he called on the Force, waited for that familiar warmth and tug of its response, and there: he could feel the inner gears of the lock turning, the door starting to open, but then, abruptly, suddenly, the door slammed back shut.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and glared at the door.

“What is it?” Satine asked.

 _Not funny, Anakin,_ Obi-Wan only thought before replying dryly, “It would appear Anakin has ideas of his own.”

There were going to be _words_. 

“Ideas,” Satine repeated, her voice equally unamused.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, letting his hand drop to his side. He managed to turn towards Satine, trying to ignore the way that if any of them leaned any closer, their foreheads might bump against each other. Obi-Wan concentrated on the strands of sunshine-colored hair dropping past Satine’s forehead. She at least wasn’t wearing the headpiece—that was still probably lying around somewhere on the upper levels of the Coronet from where Merrik had knocked it away.

“Well, then, Master Jedi,” Satine said, her voice clipped as she lifted her eyes up to the ceiling, “I suggest we come up with a few ideas of our own.”

Obi-Wan followed Satine’s gaze up to the ceiling, where he found one of the grates to the ventilation system. He dropped his gaze back down to Satine, who met his eyes with a steady, defiant look of her own. Obi-Wan waited a moment before he said, “Anakin could open the door any minute.”

“Yes, well,” Satine said, casting the door a wary look, “given what just happened, I have the feeling that might be some time yet.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree. Still, he eyed the vents again. “Are you quite certain?” he asked.

A corner of Satine’s lips twitched. “I am quite certain,” she said. She turned up to the grate again, hands set at her hips. “We did our fair share of climbing through tight spaces in the past, haven’t we?” Her voice dropped a little at the end, leaving room for a strange, tense silence between the two as the words brought back a flurry of memories for the both of them.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan heard himself say at last. He cleared his throat, looking back up at the grate. “The ventilation shaft will be a first for us, however.”

“All the better,” Satine replied. She gestured towards the grate. “Care to do the honors?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, more to himself than to Satine, but he tugged the grate down from the ceiling. It fell to the floor with a dull _thunk,_ narrowly missing both Obi-Wan and Satine’s toes.

“Right then,” Satine said, looking up at the empty space left behind in the shaft. “You know this ship better than I—so you go first.”

There was no point arguing around that. “I’ll pull you up,” Obi-Wan only said before he leapt up to the air vent. He pressed himself flat against the cool surface and, turning back around, he offered a hand to Satine. Obi-Wan could feel her hands through his gloves, her fingers naturally twining themselves through his as he hauled her up beside him.

“Well,” Satine said, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, “lead the way.”

Obi-Wan looked around the vents. “This way,” he decided at last, nodding to the front. He shifted to the side, just enough so Satine could be at his side as they carefully started their crawl down the shaft. Obi-Wan tried to ignore how their elbows, hands, fingertips brushed against each other as they crept their way forward. The only sounds were their hands and knees against the surface, their breaths.

“This way,” Obi-Wan said after some time, gesturing down a corner. He waited until Satine went first, and then he reached her side.

“Just straight down for a little while longer,” Obi-Wan said, mentally mapping out the halls in his head. “And then we should be in a decent enough place to get out.”

“Very well,” Satine replied.

They lapsed back into silence—or, at least, as silent as the echoing vents would allow them.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said at last, trying to keep his voice light, “I’m sure you weren’t expecting this, out of all things.”

“This _has_ been a day for surprises,” Satine replied. She turned her head briefly to Obi-Wan—perhaps just meant as a quick glance, maybe just a quick look to see how much farther they had to go, but in that small moment, their eyes locked onto each other for perhaps a second longer than either of them meant for.

Something panged in Obi-Wan’s chest. A bit of Satine’s hair had fallen in her face again.

“How much longer?” Satine asked at last.

Obi-Wan swallowed. “Just down there,” he said, nodding towards where, to both his relief and disappointment, the grate waited for them.

“Wonderful,” Satine said.

\--

The trooper standing in the middle of the hallway didn’t so much as blink when Obi-Wan lowered Satine to the ground. Obi-Wan landed beside her, brushing himself off as Satine righted herself.

“Your quarters, Duchess,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the set of doors down the hall.

“Thank you,” Satine replied, tilting her head towards him as though they had just walked out of a meeting instead of the ventilation system. She lifted her eyes to Obi-Wan, blue eyes catching in the light. “I’ll be seeing you once we land?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied.

Satine gave Obi-Wan a tight-lipped smile. A small, weary one that made Obi-Wan’s chest ache, but he managed to return the gesture the best he could. And he kept that weary smile on his face until Satine had disappeared into her quarters.

\--

Obi-Wan found Anakin tinkering in the lower levels, the lights very much activated and things running very smoothly.

Anakin didn’t even bother turning around from whatever it was he was working on. “So,” he said cheerfully, “how was it?”

“My lightsaber if you please, Anakin.”

“It wasn’t _that_ bad, was it?” Anakin asked, but he threw Obi-Wan’s lightsaber over his shoulder. Obi-Wan caught it one-handed, and fastening it to his side, he scowled at the back of Anakin’s head. But Anakin didn’t seem to care or notice, especially as he continued, “How’d you two get out? I was going to open the door a few minutes ago, but when I did, you two weren’t there.” He wiped his hands against a rag. “Vents, right? That must have been fun.”

Anakin turned around at last, his face stretched into a wide grin—but then it instantly faded at Obi-Wan’s expression. “Ah,” Anakin said. “You’re not…mad at me, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Obi-Wan said dryly. “Why would I be? You only just locked Duchess of Mandalore and myself in a supply closet.”

Anakin relaxed, and then a moment later, he said, “You’re being sarcastic.”

Force help him.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “I am being sarcastic, Anakin.”

Anakin winced. “Listen,” he said, turning the rag over in his hands. “I didn’t mean to get you guys into any serious trouble. I would have let you out in a few minutes—I _swear_ ,” he added hurriedly at Obi-Wan’s glower. “But you two looked like you needed some time to yourselves. Like everyone else!” He added again. Anakin lifted his hands. “Just an innocent attempt to get you guys to catch up on the good old days. I swear.”

Obi-Wan regarded Anakin warily. His former apprentice was many things, but _innocent_ was not quite the word he could ever imagine himself using to describe Anakin Skywalker.

But Anakin blinked and smiled at Obi-Wan as though he were a youngling just caught staying up too late.

Force help him.

“We’ll be back on Coruscant soon,” Obi-Wan said at last, turning around. “You might want to get cleaned up.”

“Will do,” Anakin said cheerfully. Obi-Wan heard him throw the rag aside, and then Anakin hurried up to his side. “But did you guys get to reminisce a little?”

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. He looked so ridiculously hopeful, the kind that made Obi-Wan unsure whether to shake or smile at him. Anakin’s intentions were well-meant—Obi-Wan knew that much, no matter how questionable his friend’s actions were.

And looking at Anakin’s hopeful reaction, Obi-Wan almost felt sorry for his next words.

“No,” Obi-Wan said at last. “We didn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Obitine Week 2020 Day 1, the prompt being '7 Deadly Sins'. I decided to write about pride, because I figured that Obi-Wan and Satine were always too proud to ever discuss what actually happened on the Coronet (re: "I've loved you always"/"had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order". Like,,,these two idiots really just went and professed their love for each other and don't actually discuss what just happened, and I'm completely convinced that they both decided to just pretend that didn't happen because they're angsty.)
> 
> As always, reviews/favorites are greatly appreciated! I'm excited to be taking part in Obitine Week!


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